


A Chance Reunion

by FactoryKat



Series: The Mages' Champion and the Healer's Hope - The Wyatt Hawke Collection [5]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: M/M, Male-Female Friendship, Other, Post-Dragon Age II, Pre-Dragon Age: Inquisition
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-19
Updated: 2019-02-19
Packaged: 2019-10-31 18:55:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17855210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FactoryKat/pseuds/FactoryKat
Summary: Anders has an unexpected reunion with a couple of old friends when He and Hawke stop at an inn somewhere along their travels together.





	A Chance Reunion

**Author's Note:**

> Just an idea that everyone has probably already done.
> 
> This fic has been extensively edited and updated as of 5/27/19

[At a tavern just outside Denerim]

 

“Anders?!”

Panic.

That was the man’s first instinctual reaction when he thought he had heard his name. Even through the raucous noise that filled the crowded village tavern, he recognized it had not been Hawke. His blood ran cold, and his body tensed. His mind raced to find excuses, pieced together fictional conversations and primed responses to queries that hadn’t even been thought of yet. Justice as well had been alerted and Anders could feel the spirit pressing him and the distinct urge to take command of the situation should it become necessary. Hawke had left his side only for a moment to fetch them a hot meal and hopefully secure a room, leaving the healer to wait anxiously with his eyes frantically scanning the room to locate and map out the best escape routes should he need to flee in a hurry.

Being recognized could easily spell disaster for the fugitive mages.

Anders decided he didn’t want to take the risk and turned away to casually approach the closest door, idly drawing his cloak a little tighter around him. Hawke would be able to find him, surely, if he just stepped outside.

A figure stepped between him and the door, hands shooting out from beneath a heavy blue coat to plant themselves against his chest. The breathless voice pleaded again the figure drew their hood back just as he tried to reach for the staff beneath his coverings.

“Anders wait!”

A pale blonde braid spilled out over a shoulder of navy and steel as stormy blue eyes searched his face eagerly for recognition. The twitch in his hands receded as quickly as it began and with it along went the familiar itch of the fade crawling up his neck. Justice was also on high alert but the spirit was placated almost immediately by the sight in front of them.

“W-warden Commander?” he stammered, more than a little astonished to say the least.

The commander threw her arms around her former subordinate’s neck, startling him. It was another minute before Anders remembered how to breathe and released the one he had been holding, his chest heaving as he did so. In his exhale expunged all of the tension and anxiety that had been roiling in his gut for the last hour, the last _week_ even. He forced aside his initial hesitation and wrapped his arms around the woman’s waist just below where her armored breastplate stopped. Laerke Cousland of Highever, Commander of the Grey, legendary Hero (and _Queen)_ of Ferelden. A _nd his friend._  It was the only title that held any true weight for him right now.

She was here and he almost couldn’t believe it.

“I’m sorry,” she started, prying herself away from the healer with her eyes glassy from the threat of tears despite the smile she wore. Anders too had to refrain from succumbing to the overwhelming emotions crashing over him like waves on the sea after a turbulent storm.

He still asked, despite knowing her apology was multi-faceted. “Sorry for what? I’m the one who should be apologizing, for a _lot_ of things…”

She sighed, wearily with her hands at her side, making a fist in one and pinching the bridge of her pert nose with the other. When last he had seen the commander, she was a spritely thing some years his junior and half a foot shorter but here stood a formidable looking woman that exemplified each of her rightly-earned titles. “No, Anders, please don’t. I just wish-” her demeanor changed from tense to forlorn in the span of a breath. “I wish I had could have been there. For you. I feel like I let you down and _that_ is why I am sorry.” Her smile was sorrowful, not at all like the one he remembered her by when they fought together in Amaranthine. What a pair they made now.

Still, hearing those words set him at a level of ease Anders had not felt in years and he allowed one the oldest knots of anxiety he had carried within his heart and mind to finally unwravel. The thought of what she would say should they ever cross paths again had silently gnawed away at him, twisting his heart and growing with each day. Her fair but firm leadership had been a welcome change after his years spent in the Circle of Magi under Chantry regime. Their scrutiny and abuses were still a fresh wound in his mind and on his soul. In the commander he had also found a steadfast friend, perhaps the first person who genuinely mattered to him since Karl and well before he had met Hawke. The commander had been quick to rise to his defense against the templars sent after him, the first of many incidents he was eternally grateful for. Beyond that she had given him so much before it all went horribly wrong.

The burning question finally came to mind after being so immersed in their nearly tearful reunion. “Wait - what brings you back this way, Commander?”

“Laerke.” She quipped, matter-of-factly. “Just Laerke. I’m not your commander anymore, remember?” If she held any grudge over that fact, over his separation from the order, her face showed no indication of anger and resentment. Not after all these years and certainly not after everything they went through together.  
  
Their voices quieted now, dropping to almost hushed whispers as the crowd thinned and the ambience inside the tavern wasn’t enough to drown out their conversation and afford them the same privacy as before. They ducked into a corner, but the commander carried on speaking. “I’m only passing through. It’s -”

“ _Maker-!_ There you are!” Another voice, bassy and resonant joined theirs interrupting Commander Cousland’s response. “You had me worried for a second.” Though he was speaking to Anders, Hawke’s sharp blue eyes were trained steadily on the woman in Warden regalia that he had been conversing with.

Anders knew this side of Hawke well. He recognized the rigid tension in his form thrown off by a deceptively friendly smile and the atypical lilt to his voice. Possessive posturing this was not. He could hardly blame Hawke for being distrustful of strangers considering their situation. However, he slipped his hand in one of Wyatt’s and gave it a reassuring squeeze.  
  
“It’s fine. I’m _fine._ Hawke, this is-”  
  
Laerke interrupted Anders before he could launch into a full explanation. “A friend. An old friend.” Much like Hawke’s, the smile on her pretty face held back surmounting concern and was reasonably cautious. He didn’t think it was for a lack of trust in Hawke necessarily, but they did appear to be drawing attention and it wasn’t like they weren’t a distinct looking bunch. Anders knew Hawke was a bright man and would be quick to catch on. He noticed the slight shift in stance, catching from the corners of his eye as Wyatt slid his feet apart ever so slightly and straightened his back but made no other obvious movements.

“Well, any _friend_ of Anders.” Hawke cleared his throat quietly.  
  
Laerke reached forward and parted Anders’ cloak, inspecting him from top to bottom like a worried parent or sibling. “You look-” she paused and considered her next choice of words, “utterly exhausted.”

Guilt stabbed at his heart and his attitude soured but snark somehow still found its way into his voice. “Why Commander, you flatter me.”

“Oh! Wait-” Her sudden exclamation was startling to the both of them and was made more puzzling by the way her pack was moving. “I’ve got someone here who has missed you terribly.”

Someone missed him? Someone that could fit into a sack? Anders’ mind struggled to parse her meaning as though she had provided him with some sort of complex logic puzzle. His eyes were trained intently on the wiggling rucksack just as it meowed.

_Meowed?_

Anders watched with rapt attention as she deftly worked something free from amongst her things. An animal - small and distinctly feline in shape - was liberated from within. When the moment of realization hit, his eyes widened in sheer astonishment.

“Ser Pounce-a-lot?” His voice quivered.

The tabby cat mewled and wiggled in the warden commander’s grasp as she transferred the ginger tabby to Anders open and eager arms. Pounce settled down immediately and hardly protested when the mage clutched him fervently. He caught the quiet awe on his love’s face while he watched the emotional reunion, before burying his own in the feline’s orange fur.

“I can’t believe it! Thank you. This means the world to me. Really.” Ser Pounce made himself at home on Anders shoulder, nestled comfortably underneath his cloak where he would be safe and out of view.

Laerke leaned forward, stretching to make up the modest height difference between the two of them and planted a chaste kiss on his stubble-shadowed cheek. “There is no need for thanks, Anders. You’re practically family. You and Justice and everyone else were more than just my subordinates, or friends. We were a family. Oh-” Her face changed as she stood flat on her feet once more. “I heard that you - Is Justice …”

Guilt was always a bitter pill, never going down easy and difficult to swallow but somehow Anders managed to keep a straight face and control his emotions enough that Justice wouldn’t come surging forth right in the middle of public. He nodded his head, almost solemnly.

No more than a minute ticked by in silence while the commander looked at him curiously. Was she judging him, or trying to work out the finer details of how?

“Well, I’m no mage, so this is all so strange to me but - well if it had to be with anyone, then I’m glad it was you. Please wish him well for me.”

The urge to protest and correct her judgement was strong. He wanted to claim that he had done something dangerous and potentially stupid, but the sensation of pride swelled from somewhere not within himself and overshadowed his self-loathing. Justice. The spirit was pushing against his mortal constraints with the overwhelming desire to praise the commander for her just deeds and laud her with tales of all they had been through together.  Anders swallowed the knot in his throat and nodded silently, finding words lacking.

Laerke smiled solemnly but composed herself. “Good. And I’m afraid I can’t stay.”  
  
“Wait-” Hawke chimed in finally. He had to be tired of feeling like the odd man out. “Aren’t you the hero-” But Laerke raised a hand to stop him, her head shaking slowly and solemnly. "The history books call me things like 'brave' and 'hero.' I’m afraid the history books are wrong."  

His brows knitted curiously and his face was almost crestfallen, as if she had somehow both exceeded and shattered all of his expectations at once. Or so Anders surmised just from his expression. He knew his lover well enough by now to make such an assessment but he also knew the commander.

She smiled simply, both far away and yet right there in front of them at the same time. “Sorry. I must seem like a disappointment. I just meant that - I’m not special and not nearly as brave as the stories make me sound. I just did what I had to do. As did _you_ , Anders. Or so I’d like to think. I hope I’m not wrong in that.”

The sound that rose from his throat and passed through his lips couldn’t really be called a laugh or a sob, nor even a gasp in surprise. Perhaps it was all three, born from the hybrid of emotions that her words let loose within him just then. His grip still held Wyatt’s hand firmly and he squeezed it just a little tighter. 

The commander sorted her things and idly brushed herself off. “I’ve gone and brought down the whole room now. It’s long past time for me to go. Please take care of each other and you Anders, do try to stay out of trouble. Lest I hear about it and have to come back and set you straight.” Her mouth turned up in a far more joyful smile this time, expressing her genuine pleasure over the reunion.   

“You know me too well,” Anders chuckled low and cooly. They both knew it was practically an impossible task by now. “But I make no promises.”

She left quickly without any further delays and no sooner, Anders felt Hawke’s eyes lingering on him. “What?”

“You’re smiling.”

“Oh? Is that so unusual?”  
  
“Come on. You’re going to break the news to Finn about Ser Pounce.” Hawke threw an arm around his shoulders as they turned down the corridor.

“Why do I have to do it? He’s _your_ dog!” Anders balked, before the couple disappeared into their room for the night.


End file.
